


Taking Down 'The King'

by screamingstrawberry



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders RPF
Genre: Cop AU, should I continue this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 12:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingstrawberry/pseuds/screamingstrawberry
Summary: Detective Sanders has been chasing gang leader of the Crowns, The King, for what seems like forever, but does someone know more about the gang than what they’re saying?





	1. Chapter 1

“Hands on the ground.” Logan called into the warehouse as two of the biggest mob bosses minions started to run, bags of stolen bank money in their hands, spilling cash out onto the floor of the warehouse. Logan knew this warehouse, the Crowns gang had used it many times, but no matter how many of his quadrant he had stationed at it, gang members seemed to slip through. The 5th precinct was also the most skilled in the entire city, so it infuriated most of Logan’s peers.

“Sanders, go get The King, I’ve got these two.” His newest partner, a relative newbie from the academy, Virgil Foster said. Virgil held the two goons at double gunpoint, his mouth twisted into a smirk as the two weaponless thieves dropped the bags onto the ground. Virgil’s fight or flight reflex was the most refined that Logan had seen, so when forced to take a new partner, he’d plucked him right of the incoming freshies.

Logan nodded, running up the familiar stairs to where he knew The King’s office. The stairs were rusted and Logan had to move slowly to keep them from creaking. Somewhere below him, he heard Virgil talking down the two goons. They had requested backup, so where were they? They’d gotten word of a drop off to The King, so even if it was nothing more than the two who’d robbed the bank that afternoon, a couple of guards, and The King himself, the extra help would be useful.

The King, the leader of the Crowns, was an eccentric man, borderline crazy. Logan had come face to face with him multiple times over his career, he’d been the only villain to outsmart him. One had to be just as crazy as the The King himself to go alone head forth into The King’s office without backup and just a hand pistol. So that’s just what Logan did.

“Hands up King.” Logan growled, pointing the gun where he assumed The King’s head would be. He apparently got it pretty right as two guards about five feet away from him, forty five degrees on either side, pointed their guns at Logan, who had his gun aimed right in the middle of The King’s head.

The King smirked, much more malicious and sinister than the one he’d seen from Virgil a few moments ago, and swirled back and forth in his chair almost giddily. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Detective Sanders.”

“You’re caught now, your highness.” Logan tightened his grip on his pistol, making a move to step closer but the two guards guns clicked and Logan felt himself freeze. He was an experienced detective, no doubt, but seeing your reflection in the shine of a gun never got any easier. The King laughed as he watched the detective's shoulders tense and his grip on his weapon get tighter.

“His backup isn’t coming.” A voice came from behind Logan, and a figure pushed past his shoulder, but Logan held his stature. His gun wobbled a bit and the voice laughed, Logan recognizing the familiar yellow tint of his left eye. Deceit. “Honestly, my lord, it’s almost like he wants you to escape from his grasps at this point.”

“Is that true, Detective?” The King giggled, standing up from his chair. Even Logan, who stood himself at 6 foot, had to admit that the sight of him was rather scary. He had to be at least 6’2, he had thick muscles in his shoulders and his arms, and though arguably attractive, his face usually bore a condescending smirk of some kind. Knowing he had two children at home and was surrounded by guns at his face now that Deceit had pulled his out too, made it far too easy for The King to pluck the gun right out of Logan’s hands and throw onto the floor. The King then placed his hand in the middle of Logan’s chest, pushing his body back until he landed up against the wall with The King’s body flush against him. “I think you’d miss me if you locked me up.”

The King dragged a finger up his chest and along Logan’s neckline, causing the man to shiver. The King wasn’t even that violent of a mob boss, while the Crowns had a long reign of violence and occasional murder, since the King took over, it’s mostly been theft and protesting. The only place they’d been able to trace the money to is a children’s hospital, which didn’t make any sense.

“Still with me, Detective?” The King asked, leaning forward, and Logan should’ve tensed when he felt the words right on his face because of how close they were now. Instead he melted, his body gravitating toward the other man, and he let out the tiniest whine. “Oh, how sweet.”

“Boss, I think we should go before his partner comes around.” Deceit smirked. Deceit was The King's right hand, manipulative and just as cocky, one of his eyes were yellow, the other covered in a yellow eyepatch. The King hummed in agreement,  sneaking his other hand around Logan’s wrist and pinning it behind him, twisting until Logan whine again.

“Sorry, pretty boy.” The King giggled, leaning down to press a kiss against Logan’s cheek. “We should finish this later.”

The King dropped his hand and motioned for the guards to follow. One of them headed out the door first, then Deceit, then The King as he waved playfully, and then the second guard took up the rear. Logan waited until they were out of the room and no doubt sauntering down the steps until he reached over with his only good hand, now that the other was most likely sprained at the wrist thanks to The King, and grabbed his gun. He headed out of the room, hearing a rushed footsteps to see another pair of detectives headed toward the group of four.

“Stay back, I’ve got him.” Logan thought fast, aiming his pistol at the back of The King’s chest, knowing full well he probably had body armor of some kind. A loud fuck proved him wrong as Deceit through a smoke bomb, directed towards the incoming officers and then escaped out a back door with The King in his arms, in Logan’s plainsight. He whipped his head around looking for other escapes, but deduced that the docks behind them were the only way out and since The King was known for his luxuries, they’d probably already set sail.

His sprained wrist hung at his side, as he lethargically made his way back to his squad car with Virgil already in the front and the two thieves in the back. Logan got in the passenger’s side and leaned his head back against the seat, keeping his eyes and mouth closed the entire ride back to the precinct. Virgil knew better at this point than to try to talk to him after a run in with The King.

When they got back, Logan sat through the captain’s lecture. Even though Logan was the only detective to get as close to The King as he did, he still should’ve waited for backup. Logan relayed that backup was late, and the captain called in the precinct’s secretary. James, the secretary who was kind of short but relatively well built smiled as he came in. His left eye flashed with a bright yellow, and it contrasted with the blue of his right one, a birth defect he’d told the captain when he first was employed about five years ago. “I have absolutely no idea, Captain. It seems someone gave them the wrong address.”

“It was probably the rookie.” Logan replied, not wanting to throw Virgil under the bus not wanting to get suspicion on him for letting The King go again.

“Well, we all make mistakes. Best we just try to catch him next time. You should get home to that husband and kids of yours, Sanders.” The Captain was a kind man, tall, dorky glasses but still an underlying stern attitude. “Ice that wrist.”

“Thank you Captain.” Logan dismissed himself from the office and was ready to head to his car when a loud voice interrupted his ears.

“Oh no you don’t.” Someone, though Logan was sure he knew who it was at this point, yanked on Logan’s collar and pulled him backwards towards them. “You are not driving with a wrist like that, mister.”

“Patton, I want to go home.” Logan whined. He did. He missed his husband’s strong arms and the chipper sound of his kids voices. God, after the day he’d had, even just the thought of it made him want to kick his feet and whine at the shorter man.

“And you will.” Patton said, plopping him down into the chair next to Virgil finishing up the report of the arrest. “Once I wrap that wrist, and then Virgey and I will drop you off.”

Virgil grunted in agreement. Logan huffed in defeat and held out his wrist for his partner’s boyfriend. Patton was a nurse at the local hospital, and usually swung by after his shift to pick his boyfriend up. Logan had gotten to know the two quite well, and dared to call them friends. Soon enough Virgil slid his chair away from his computer and over to the clock out machine, clocking out both Logan and himself, just in time as Patton finished clicking the wrap on Logan’s wrist in place. Patton hoisted him up, and the three headed out the front door to Patton’s tiny four door Kia Forte, and soon enough Logan was at his apartment complex’s front door waving goodbye to them.

“I want to meet that family of yours soon. Come over for dinner.” Patton called as he pulled away. Logan nodded, headed up to his floor via the stairs, too impatient to ride the elevator. His bones ached by the time he reached his door, fumbling for his keys as he heard the voices of his family inside.

“Daddy’s home!” When he finally got the door opened, he was bombarded by two small bodies while the smell of spaghetti invaded his ears. His stomach growled and his son and daughter giggled at his knees. But still, he could see the bandage poking out from under Roman’s shirt, and he knew he was never going to hear the end of this.

“Did you kill any bad guys, Daddy?” His son asked, as he reached down to pick his daughter, the younger of the two, up into his arms.

“Hercules!” His husband chided, turning the burner off to walk over and place a kiss on his husband’s cheek. “You know Daddy doesn’t kill anyone unless he really has to. Killing people isn’t nice.”

“That’s an understatement.” Logan giggled, planting kisses all over his daughters face as he put her back down.

“I want kisses too!” Hercules whined, and Logan happily obliged, keeping himself bent at the knee to peck little feather kisses all over his son’s face. “You guys only ever kiss Ophelia anymore.”

The one and a half year old giggled, stumbling on her way back over to their dog, Jack, as the Yorkshire terrier licked at her face. Roman clicked his tongue. “That’s because we save all the tickles for you.”

Roman made a tickling motion with his fingers and Hercules squealed, jumping away from his fathers. Logan laughed, reaching out to push his son’s butt playfully as he turned away. “Go help your sister wash up.”

The four year old nodded, walking over to his sister and walking her by the hand toward the bathroom. When they heard the sound of the children’s step stools rattle and the sink turn on, Roman turned toward his husband, roughly pushing him against the wall. Logan opened his mouth in surprise, suppressed a whine, and licked his lips as Roman stepped closer to him, both listening to the sound of their children in the bathroom. Logan’s hands fell to Roman’s waist, but suddenly his husband winced, and Logan felt his muscles twitch. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Roman clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his hand pushing harder against the middle of Logan’s chest. He sounded offended, appalled, betrayed- “You shot me!”

“I had to!” Logan replied in defense. “You were getting away!”

“But that didn’t mean you had to shoot me!” Their voices were quiet in case the water turned off at any moment. It was an understatement to say that little to none, not even their own children, knew about their arrangement. Pretending to The King, former Roman Prince from Brooklyn who inherited his abusive father’s gang, slip through Detective Sanders fingers every time. James D. Belial, otherwise known as Deceit to the Crowns, helped them out with the logistics of it, being the one of the other few competent people at the 5th precinct.

“Well you twisted my wrist first!” Logan whined, childlike, but he soon found an urge to fight disappear from his body as Roman leaned forward, attaching his lips to his neck.

“Poor baby.” He could feel Roman’s words against his neck as he spoke, and Logan leaned upward. The day had been long, yes he’d shot his own husband, but god did he need him more than ever in this moment. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Please.” Logan’s moved his hips forward, needing some kind of friction against him. Roman leaned down, happy to supply. The two stayed in that rhythm for a moment, pushing against each other while Roman’s lips trailed further down Logan’s body, only to be interrupted by the sound of the sink turning off.

“All done daddies.” Hercules called, and Logan groaned, the sound causing Roman to smirk as he kissed his husband once on the lips and then pulled away.

“We’ll finish this later, darling.” Roman pulled Logan along by his grip still on his shirt, and plopped his husband down in one of the chairs at the table. As the two children came by, Roman picked up Ophelia and placed her in her high chair, turning over and helping Hercules into one of the big person chairs. He insisted on it.

After Roman served them dinner, the two husbands listened as Hercules told them about school and then Ophelia babbled nonsense at them for a half an hour. The two laughed alongside their son as Ophelia stressed ‘gurgle ga biddel ba’ and had a similar thought run through both their minds. _This is what they do it for._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't updated this in a month woop. this is just a family fluff together because I love these oc children I have created don't judge me. we'll get back to the action next chapter

Dinner was finished, and Logan decided to do the dishes for you know, shooting his husband and all. He hummed along to a tune from his childhood, quietly so he could hear the sounds of Roman playing with their children. Hercules’ giggles were loud and high, mixed with the faint sound of excited but sleepy babbles, as well as his husband’s own melodic voice. Once he was finished, he couldn’t help sneaking down the hall to crack the door open just the tiniest bit, to see Roman flop against Hercules’ bed. Their son was in his husband’s arms, laughing for mercy, as their daughter looked on from the floor in amusement. Logan leaned against the door frame listening To Roman narrate the scene as eventually Prince Hercules defeated the evil knight, and rescued the Princess Ophelia from his clutches. 

“Clutches?” Logan chuckled, interrupting them. He stepped into the room, and picked Ophelia up, heading toward the changing table in their bathroom, to get her into pjs. “That’s an awfully big word for you.” 

“I know big words.” Roman replied, as he coerced Hercules into brushing his teeth so they all could be in the bathroom together. Logan finished getting Ophelia in to tiny little cat and dog pajamas, before picking her back up, and holding her against his shoulder as Hercules started his teeth. 

“Don’t forget the back ones.” Logan reminded him. 

“Uh-huh.” Hercules gurgled with the toothbrush still in his mouth. Roman laughed, reaching out to squeeze Ophelia’s cheeks playfully.  When he pulled away, the one and half year old yawned, and laid her head against Logan’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. 

Logan cooed, and Roman instead moved his hand to his husband’s face. He used it as leverage to lean in and kiss him softly, enjoying the way Logan couldn’t help but move toward him even as he pulled away. “Why don’t you go rest up, I’ll read them to bed.” 

“I love you.” Roman mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of Logan’s cheek, pausing to stop just at Logan’s ear, lowering his voice. “Maybe we’ll pick up where left off earlier.” 

When he pulled away, there was a pout across his husband’s face, for teasing him, but Roman knew he would make it up to him later. He strolled over to his and Logan’s bedroom, waiting until he heard Logan voice before shutting the door and leaning against it. Roman pressed his head back harshly, almost until he could feel an indent forming while he bit down on his lip to ignore the pain shooting up in streams from his abdomen. 

He was trying to hide it as best as he could, in fact if Logan hadn’t been the one to shoot him, Roman would have kept it from him. After all, who would want to see their husband like this? Frail, and nearly doubled over in the pain against the thin door of their bedroom, heaving sighs as he tried to catch his breath. No, that was not the man Logan married. 

That was not the man Roman was, either, despite the pain radiating through him desperately trying to make him like that. Roman found his way to the floor, laying down, and when Logan pulled open the door, he narrowingly missed his husband’s head as he tried to squeeze through the small open crack. “Ro?”

“Hm?” Roman hummed, the pain had subsided for the few minutes that he was on the floor, and he didn’t bother cranking his head upward in case it came back. 

Logan bent down on his knees, running his hand through his husband’s hair, hearing the soft purr he gave in response, and deeming that he was responsive enough to move to the bed. He reached his arms out, grabbed him bridal style and all but threw him onto their bed against the back wall. Roman’s body bounced, and Logan bent over to catch his breath as his husband was about thirty pounds more muscle than he was, but when Roman looked up with adorably dumbfounded look, Logan couldn’t manage to fight a smile. 

“Did you just throw me onto our bed?” Roman mumbled, trying to keep his head cranked up ad Logan kicked off his pants and climbed into bed next to him. 

“You’re heavy, I couldn’t carry you for more than two seconds.” Logan shrugged, not entirely true, but enjoying the way giggles escaped his husband’s mouth in a breathy and exasperated way, even if it was interrupted by a wince. 

“Thanks.” Roman said, trying to adjust as Logan wrapped laid down against his arm. It took a couple minutes before Roman was resting up against the headboard with Logan on his left side, sneakily trailing his hands along the waistband of Roman’s pajamas. “Hey love?” 

Logan made a noise of acknowledgement and barely looking his head up from where his gaze had fallen on the muscles just underneath the bandage Roman wore. “Yeah?”

“Love you.” Roman smiled, and Logan smiled back, leaning upwards to press a kiss against his husband’s lips softly. But soft turned into passionate, and passionate turned into rough, and it wasn’t until Logan’s hips pushed downward that he felt something underneath him twitch while Roman tried to muffle a pained whine. 

“Roman.” Logan pulled away, scanned Roman’s face for an unspoken answer to a unspoken question, and while he noticed his favorite chocolate brown eyes were a little glossy, Roman was otherwise smiling nervously. 

“I’m fine.” Roman whispered, reaching his hand on his good side up to push the slightly sweaty bangs out of Logan’s face, the move stretching as Logan pulled himself away from his husband more. 

“No you’re not.” Logan grumbled, soundly oddly childish. When he spoke again, it was quieter, rougher, and guilty. “I shot you.”

“Barely grazed me, Jamie said I’ll be all good in no more than a week. I don’t blame you sweetheart, it’s your job. Now come back to bed.” Roman whined towards the end of it, but he had managed to coerce Logan back to his side. His husband laid down against the side without the wound, his face tucked into Roman’s neck, and Roman smiled, reaching his hand under his husband’s underwear. 

“Ro.” Logan whined, pushing his face against the side of Roman’s face, and Roman hummed. 

“Sh, baby, I’ve got you.” Roman said, moving his hand harsh and quick along Logan’s length, smirking a little in pride in the way Logan whimpers against his jaw. 

They didn’t last long though, because just as Roman felt Logan tense, there was a knock on their bedroom door. “Daddy?”

Roman giggled, while Logan straight up whined as Roman pulled his hand away. “Is that you or Hercules calling for me?”

“Shut up.” The detective pushed off his husband, walking to the door to see their four year old with his hands behind his back and his head to the floor. 

“Did I wake you up?” Hercules mumbled and Logan smiled, reaching down to pull his son into his arms only to find his pajamas all wet. 

“No sweetheart. Did you have another nightmare?” Logan asked, not missing the way Roman’s head popped up as he tried to move off the bed. Hercules nodded his head silently and Logan held his hand up behind him, signalling Roman to stay put. “Well, why don’t we give you a quick bath, and then I can wash your sheets while you cuddle with Daddy, ok?”

The child nodded, and Logan carried him into the bathroom, setting him in the half tub half shower and helping him undress before turning the water on and cleaning him up. After Hercules’s bath, Logan sent him into Roman, before heading to the kids bedroom and clearing off all the sheets and setting them in the washer. When he came back to the kids bedroom afterwards, just to check on Ophelia, he unsurprisingly found her wide awake at all the noise.

“Come here, girlie, let’s go cuddle our boys, what do you say?” Logan whispered, knowing if Roman heard him he might tease him, and when he carried back to his and husband’s room, Hercules was already passed out. 

Hercules was in a pair of spiderman underwear and one of Logan’s old high school tshirts that looked like a robe on him, and he was gripping Roman’s arm so tightly, his little knuckles wear turning white. Logan set Ophelia on the bed, and let her crawl up in between her brother and Roman to lay on her father’s chest. Roman smiled, said something softly to her that Logan couldn’t hear, and and graciously accepted the kiss Logan gave him before he laid down next to him to sleep. 

Ophelia was the last in the family of four to actually fall asleep, when she had softly pried her brother’s hand off her father’s arm and set it gently against his side. She decided to lay out starfish style, half of her body on Roman’s chest next to where her brother was resting on their father’s outstretched arm, with one of her arms across Hercules’s face, and one of her legs across Logan’s knees from where they were tucked into Roman’s side. She slept quite comfortably. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> do you want more? leave it in the comments below


End file.
